


adventures of the si-5

by goodbee



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Hephaestus, Team Bonding, a crappy sugar daddy, it’s not actually canon compliant but it’s like. close enough ok, kepler is just like, no one is straight, wonder twin hijinks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-08-20 08:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16552190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodbee/pseuds/goodbee
Summary: Doctor Alana Maxwell did not sign up to be a spy.She couldn’t lie to save her life, she wasn’t particularly skilled in hand-to-hand combat.She agreed to be a scientist. An engineer. An AI specialist.So she could not fathom why in the hell Mr. Cutter would be sending her down to SI-5. The “black ops of Goddard”, as Selberg called them. Maxwell was not a spy or an assassin. To be fair, she had no idea what the SI-5 did, but she assumed it to be primarily spying and assassination.Maxwell did not assume that the elite, elusive Goddard Futuristics SI-5 unit was two guys in a room.





	1. chapter i

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leeluna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leeluna/gifts).



Doctor Alana Maxwell did not sign up to be a spy.

She couldn’t lie to save her life, she wasn’t particularly skilled in hand-to-hand combat.

She agreed to be a scientist. An engineer. An AI specialist.

So she could not fathom why in the hell Mr. Cutter would be sending her down to SI-5. The “black ops of Goddard”, as Selberg called them. Maxwell was not a spy or an assassin. To be fair, she had no idea what the SI-5 did, but she assumed it to be primarily spying and assassination.

Maxwell kicked the door labelled 713, hands full with the box of things from her desk piled up so high she could hardly see over them. She heard some disgruntled muttering from inside the room before the door was swung open by someone evidently too short to see.

“Your desk’s on the right,” short person said. Maxwell hummed her thanks and plopped down her boxes full of expensive, high-tech, irreplaceable equipment on her desk with less care than usual, eager to see her new office.

Office.

The word office was, evidently, a stretch.

The room was about half as big as an elementary school classroom, and three times as crowded. There was a large, polished desk sitting by the window opposite the door, and a smaller, cluttered desk - was that an actual grenade just sitting there, holy shit - directly across from Maxwell’s.

And that was it.

Maxwell did not assume that the elite, elusive Goddard Futuristics SI-5 unit was two guys in a room.

Well. One guy, not counting herself. The short man from earlier was staring her down with clearly false aloofness, leaning back casually on what she assumed was his desk. The smaller one.

Maxwell cleared her throat awkwardly. “Uh… you’re not… you’re not Major Kepler, right?”

The short man opened his mouth, but had no chance to respond before a tall, broad man strode into the room. The man paid no heed to anything as he crossed the room, stopped at his desk, turned, and smiled wide, finally acknowledging Maxwell.

The shorter man shuffled over to the taller one, whispering something in his ear that made him laugh. After he had finished speaking, he made no move to get back to a respectful distance away from the man - he almost seemed to hide behind him, clinging to him territorially.

The tall man stuck out his hand.

“You must be Doctor Maxwell! My name is Major Kepler. Welcome to the SI-5!”

Maxwell shook his hand, taking great care to make it as quick and painless as possible without taking her eyes off of the short man, who was looking at her like he wanted to bite her. In a violent way, not a kinky way. A decidedly unkinky expression. The tall man - Kepler - elbowed him, causing the short man to roll his eyes and stick out a hand.

“This is Mr. Daniel Jacobi. Don’t mind him, he’s just cranky because he hasn’t had his coffee today.”

Maxwell shook Jacobi’s hand, forcing a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure, I’m sure,” he said, voice thick with sarcasm.

The hours passed slowly. Maxwell spent the day hooking up her various computers and untangling extension cords. She couldn’t tell what Jacobi and Kepler were even doing. Kepler, specifically, seemed to literally just sit at his desk and think of menial tasks for Jacobi to do. Jacobi just waited for tasks and fiddled with wires and typed things on his laptop.

Jacobi’s face split into a grin. “Sir!”

Kepler strode to Jacobi’s desk and looked over his shoulder at whatever he had on his computer. Half out of curiosity and half out of boredom, Maxwell went to look, too.

The laptop screen was covered in graphs and statistics, with a 3-D model of some sort of… something taking center stage.

“Look! So you can’t open this panel without it immediately setting off, right?” Jacobi said excitedly, gesturing to the model. Kepler looked unimpressed. Jacobi cleared his throat and continued, a little deflated. “So, you have to somehow disconnect the power source before accessing the internal workings of the bomb.”

“Get to the point, Mr. Jacobi. Do you have a solution or did you just call me over to re-explain the problem?”

“I - yes, sir, sorry.” Despite Kepler’s cynicism, Jacobi’s eyes glittered as he explained the solution. “I’ve figured out a way to externally redirect the entire bomb so that it’s drawing from a power source on the outside instead of the inside. Once I’ve switched it, I can just keep it running on low power until I get inside just so it doesn’t all lock up, and then cut off the power entirely to disarm it.”

For a second, Maxwell thought Kepler was going to smack Jacobi across the face. Jacobi just sat there looking up at him with the excited, terrified expression of a kid showing his art to his disapproving dad. It was like Maxwell wasn’t even there. She felt like she was intruding on something.

But then Kepler grinned and clapped Jacobi on the shoulder. Jacobi’s hesitant smile became more pronounced and confident.

“Good work, Mr. Jacobi! How long will it take you to get your materials?”

“Ten minutes, sir.”

“Perfect. Dr. Maxwell, get your things together, we’re leaving in ten.”

“Where are we - ” Before Maxwell could even get the words out, Kepler and Jacobi had flown out of the room, door slamming behind them. “ - going.”

Maxwell sighed and threw together whatever she thought could feasibly be useful on - whatever the mission was.


	2. chapter ii

The official SI-5 car was, evidently, Kepler’s vintage Cadillac. Kepler drove, Jacobi sat shotgun, Maxwell was stuck in the back with the menagerie of tools and equipment Jacobi had shoved in. Maxwell crossed her legs and settled in to quietly read the SI-5 handbook (which seemed to have been written by Major Kepler himself. On notebook paper). 

 

At some point, she must have fallen asleep, because she was rudely awoken by Jacobi and Kepler arguing.

 

“Sir, you can’t - ”

 

“It’s impractical to try and get the bomb disarmed today. They’re going to be more tired and weak and off their guard tomorrow.”

 

“So just rent us a motel room!”

 

“I am.”

 

“And  _ drive us there _ !”

 

“I don’t want to waste this time that you and Doctor Maxwell could be bonding as a team!”

 

“Can’t we just do trust falls or something?”

 

“No complaints, Mr. Jacobi! Get out of the car before I decide to push you out!”

 

“Can you at  _ least _ stop the car? Please?”

 

Kepler groaned, but he pulled the car onto the shoulder and stopped it. “Get out.”

 

“See you if we don’t die of  _ heat stroke _ . Come on, Maxwell.”

 

Jacobi hopped out of the car. Maxwell followed suit without asking any questions, because that was basically the first three rules in the handbook.

 

Kepler drove away. Jacobi flipped him off.

 

“Uh. Do you not get in trouble for flipping off your boss?” Maxwell asked cautiously. Jacobi shrugged.

 

“Sometimes. Depends on his mood.”

 

“Why… I know I’m not supposed to ask questions, but - ”

 

“He thinks we need to bond as partners. So he’s making us find him. He does this.”

 

“Oh. So, we just…” 

 

“Wander until we find him, give up, or get killed by something.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Yuuup. He’s the worst.”

 

“I’m getting that.”

 

“So, we have two options. We could actually do this stupid thing or we could just walk until we find a bar and dick around until Kepler gets bored and picks us up.”

 

“How much trouble would that get us in?”

 

“A moderate amount?”

 

“Let’s go with that one.’

 

“Agreed.”

 

It took a good 45 minutes of walking before they found anything resembling a town, and another 20 of asking random people for directions before they found a bar.

 

“Oh, shit,” Maxwell said as they sat, patting down her pockets. “I think I left my wallet in the car.”

 

“Yeah, Kepler had me give it to him while you were asleep.”

 

“No drinks then, I guess.”

 

“Oh, ye of little faith.”

 

Jacobi tugged off his jacket and laid it on the bar. Carefully, he tore out a seam along the collar and pulled out several folded up, wrinkly hundred dollar bills.

 

“Kepler pulls shit like this all the time. I come prepared. Bartender! Your snootiest scotch, please!”

 

“Expensive taste?”

 

“No, but Kepler will be less mad if he doesn’t think his money went to waste. The man loves scotch.”

 

“Huh.”

 

As it turned out, Jacobi and Maxwell had very similarly low alcohol tolerance. Which made sense, as Maxwell didn’t drink often and Jacobi was the size of two boston terriers in a trenchcoat.

 

Long story short, they got  _ wasted _ .

 

“ _ Maxwell _ ,” Jacobi stage whispered in the general direction of Maxwell’s ear.

 

“ _ What _ ?” Maxwell whispered back. 

 

“Do you… do you see that guy?”

 

“Which guy?”

 

“The  _ hot  _ one.”

 

“‘M a lesbian.”

 

“Not for you, for  _ me _ . Green shirt. Swoop… swooshy hair. Back corner.”

 

“Uh… yeah.”

 

Jacobi glared at the hot guy in green. “He’s too  _ hot _ , Maxwell.”

 

“Hot damn,” she gurgled out around a mouthful of scotch.

 

“‘M gonna… I gotta impress him. What impresses cute guys.”

 

“I am a  _ lesbian _ .”

 

“Kepler likes me ‘cuz I do explosions.”

 

“ _ Does _ Kepler like you?”

 

“Kep - Major  _ loves  _ me. Sometimes. Maybe. I don’t know. Does… stupid Kepler. Stupid cute boy. Stupid  _ bar _ .”

 

“You wanna leave?”

 

Jacobi shook his head, paused, and shook his head again, sticking out his tongue like he was thinking. He pushed himself up onto his knees and leaned across the bar and grabbed a bottle of vodka.

 

“Hey! You wanna pay for that?” the bartender shouted. 

 

“Cover for me, Lana!” Jacobi shouted. “Distract him!”

 

Maxwell jumped up on the bar and laid across it in some vaguely seductive pose. “Heyyyy, bar… guy.”

 

The bartender made a move to push her aside. Maxwell threw a punch at his jaw.

 

“I’m a  _ lesbian _ !” she shouted, rolling off the bar and nearly falling into Jacobi’s lap.

 

“Hey, you got a lighter?” Jacobi asked the bartender. “Wait, no.” He turned to Maxwell. “You got a lighter?”

 

“Nah.”

 

“Oh. Wait. I got one.” Jacobi rooted through his pockets and pulled out a lighter. The bartender’s eyes widened.

 

“Is that a fuckin - ”

 

“MOLOTOV COCKTAIL!” Jacobi screamed, throwing the flaming bottle across the room. “THIS IS FOR YOU, HOT GUY!”

 

People started shouting. Sprinklers went off, alarms sounded.

 

“We should… prolly go,” Maxwell said, pushing herself into a standing position against the bar.

 

“Yeahhhh… do you think he liked it?”

 

“I bet he  _ loved _ it, Jacobi. Kepler would’ve loved it too.”

 

“I love Kepler…” 

 

“I know, I know.” Maxwell wrapped her arm around Jacobi. They stumbled toward the exit, struggling through the drunken hoards fighting to escape. The second they stepped outside they were grabbed and dragged around the corner by a pair of strong hands.

 

“What. The  _ hell _ . Are you two doing?” Kepler hissed, dropping them both to the dirty sidewalk. Jacobi groaned as his head hit the brick wall of the bar. Maxwell started giggling.

 

“We didn’t wanna do your thing so we got druuunk,” she said. Jacobi plastered his hand over her mouth.

 

“Maxwell, shh! We were just… just doin’ our  _ jobs _ , sir, there was a suspicious… guy.”

 

“A. Suspicious. Guy.”

 

“Yessir!”

 

“Jacobi threw a bomb at a cute guy!” Maxwell shouted, pushing away Jacobi’s hand.

 

“I just wanted to impress him,” Jacobi muttered. Kepler let out a sharp breath through his nose.

 

“We will talk about this later, as you two seem to be  _ utterly incapable _ of holding an adult conversation.”

 

Kepler helped the both of them to their feet and put an arm around each of them to steer them around the corner and across the street to where the Cadillac was parked. After some muttered, angry discussion with Jacobi, Kepler opened up the door to the backseat and pushed Jacobi in. Maxwell stumbled in beside him, and Kepler slid into the front seat and slammed the door.

 

“If you are going to act like a child, Mr. Jacobi, you do not get to sit in the front seat,” Kepler hissed over his shoulder.

 

“Maxwell,” Jacobi whispered, leaning on her shoulder. “ _ Kepler didn’t like it _ .”

 

“No, I didn’t,” Kepler said, and turned on the radio.


	3. chapter iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one's kinda short oof

Kepler woke up with about half of Maxwell and three-quarters of Jacobi piled on top of him. He was used to sharing a bed with Jacobi; he had never bothered to get them separate motel rooms on missions. But he couldn’t say he had expected Maxwell to be as much of a bed hog as Jacobi. It might’ve been the alcohol more than her own nature, though.

 

At least the bonding exercise worked. Maybe too well, but it worked. Cutter would be pleased. He had a lot of faith in Kepler’s choice of a team. And there was a lot riding on their success.

 

Kepler extracted himself from his teammates and climbed out of the bed. The clock read 4:57 AM. The plan was to strike around 11:30 PM, during a guard change. So they had plenty of time. Kepler would wake them up in an hour or so to yell at them for being irresponsible.

 

But for now, he would make breakfast.

 

Maxwell woke up at 5:21 to the sound of bacon frying and Jacobi still snoring. She rolled out of bed, lights from the kitchen already starting to give her a headache.

 

“Good morning, Dr. Maxwell,” Kepler said without turning to face her.

 

“Morning, sir.”

 

“Sleep well?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“How are you liking the new assignment?”

 

“To be honest, I have no idea what I’m doing here.”

 

“You’ll figure it out.”

 

Maxwell sat in a rickety old chair next to a splintered old table in silence. She had been hoping for an actually useful answer, but that was beginning to seem like too big a request from the Major.

 

They coexisted in tense silence until Jacobi woke up.

 

He rolled over onto his stomach, spreading across the empty bed, and groaned.

 

“Majorrrrrrrrrrrr…” 

 

“I’ve been up for an hour, Mr. Jacobi. Get out of bed.”

 

“It’s  _ cold _ .”

 

“Jacobi.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Jacobi rolled off the bed and onto the ground with a soft  _ thunk _ . He dragged himself up onto the chair next to Maxwell, who silently handed him his glasses.

 

“How many times. Have I told you. To keep your glasses within arm’s reach while you sleep?” Kepler muttered. Jacobi rolled his eyes.

 

“It’s fine.”

 

“It’s unsafe.”

 

“So’s dropping your team in the middle of bumfuck nowhere with no money or anything.”

 

“ _ Clearly _ , you found some. Mine, I assume?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“Uh… Major, is your bacon burning?” Maxwell interjected, voice high and nervous. Kepler took the pan off the burner and dumped the black, charred meat into the trash.

 

“Aww,” Jacobi said. Kepler glared but put more bacon into the pan.

 

“I don’t think I have to tell you two how… irresponsible, utterly  _ reckless _ , and  _ directly insubordinate _ your actions were?”

 

“No, sir,” Jacobi and Maxwell both said, Maxwell anxious and Jacobi flippant. 

 

“Look, Major, just because you’re jealous that I saw a cute guy doesn’t mean - ”

 

“Jacobi, come here.”

 

Jacobi groaned but slid out of his chair and trudged over to Kepler’s side. Neither of them spoke as Kepler moved the pan off the stove and set it aside. Maxwell couldn’t see Jacobi’s face from her vantage point, but she could see his legs shaking as Kepler reached over, grabbed Jacobi’s left wrist, and pressed the palm of Jacobi’s hand to the stove’s hot burner.

 

Maxwell wanted to yell, but Jacobi just turned to face Kepler and glared him down, fighting back the tears welling up in his eyes. Kepler looked more calm than anyone had ever been.

 

Maxwell stood just as Kepler pulled Jacobi’s hand off the burner.

 

“What do we say, Daniel?” Kepler asked.

 

“I’m sorry, sir.”

 

“Good.” Kepler released Jacobi’s wrist. Jacobi took an instinctive step back, clutching his arm in the exact place Kepler’s hand had just been. Maxwell rushed over and stood with Jacobi, carefully placing herself between him and Kepler. Kepler sighed.

 

“Dr. Maxwell, go help Jacobi wrap that up. Bacon should be done in a couple minutes,” he said, setting the pan back on the burner.


End file.
